Cracked Chains
by MistressWrandelle
Summary: Suffering years of imprisonment, will Sirius manage to break free? (One-shot)


**AN:** Hiya! The newspaper article in this one shot is from POA. I hope guys enjoy this as this is one of my favourite characters of HP :)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any right to HP characters or the world created. I wish. It belongs to J.K!

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**Cracked Chains**

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Death would've been better. Trapped inside four walls unable to fill the rising hunger, wasn't exactly Sirius's idea of a picnic. Funny what your mind can do when it no longer connects to your feelings. A man's imagination can run wild. Sirius's wasn't much different. The prisoner gazed up at the black figure, crouched on the stone floor, whimpering, his eyes fogged, compelled to see the same painful memories repeatedly. The black figure sailed forward, tilting its head. Once inches from the prisoner's face, it soaked in the hot breath that released shakily from the prisoner's icy lips. He screamed. Sirius ripped away from the tortured wail and crushed rough, greasy layers of hair with his bare hands. _No! Make it stop. No more. _A shuddering sob escaped him.

Life…Was it worth living? Was this even living? The family he craved for ceased to exist. What was Sirius doing here…alone…pitying his greying life. Why bother? His life left no meaning, no mission to fulfil. Why even try waking up every morning facing the same caged walls? He'd never be able to re-live the life he once acquired. Lily's radiant smile and glistening eyes as she gazed down at the baby boy cradled in her arms and James's cheeks widening into a grin, powerless to contain his excitement. A single happiness short-lived. Lost…gone forever…useless to even hope.

A gust of wind fluttered through his hair, chilling his bones. Sirius pressed into the corner, teeth chattering, clouding the air with his breath. He ducked his head, rocking back and forth, as the Dementors slithered by his cell.

The soft patter of footsteps clicked on the stone floor, echoing through the mournful chambers. Sirius straightened and cocked his head, listening. Muffled voices bounced merrily from wall to wall, overtaking the pained groans and high-pitched whining of other prisoners. The dank stale air tickled his nose. Sirius sneezed. The voices drew closer, rising and falling in gentle tandem compared to the harsh maddening whispers. Bellowing laughter raised the hair on his neck, forcing him to draw away from the corner and crawl forward.

"Well, I guess it is a good thing they received a thousand galleons. After all I think Arthur deserved the prize considering all the things he's done to help the Magical Misuse of Muggle Artefacts." Fudge paused in front of his cell, the DAILY PROPHET clutched securely in his hands behind his back. Sirius's eyes fastened on the black and white photograph. "Hopefully, this year Hogwarts will recover and forget the dreadful circumstances of last year."

He jolted into motion and seized the newspaper from Fudge's grasp. The man beside Fudge let out a startled gasp; Fudge however, turned stiffly and addressed him, "Black."

Sirius did not answer nor did his gaze lift to meet that of the Ministers.

"I don't suppose you'll give me back my newspaper."

Sirius didn't open his mouth, instead, his gaze trailed down the contents of the newspaper.

"No." Clearing his throat, he said, "Very well then." He gestured to the man beside him, raised his hand toward the headlong path, and smiled. "Let's not keep him waiting, Mr Brookes."

The shocked man blinked out of his reverie, glanced from him to Fudge, then shook his head and breezed past.

Bouncing on his heels, Fudge nodded as if agreeing with himself then briskly followed the man ahead. Sirius's hands busily tore out the page with the photo on it and flattened it on the cold floor closest to him. The caption at the top read:

_MINISTRY OF MAGIC EMPLOYEE SCOOPS GRAND PRIZE_

_Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office at the Ministry of Magic, has won the annual Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw._

_A delighted Mr Weasley told the Daily Prophet, 'We will be spending the gold on a summer holiday in Egypt, where our eldest son, Bill, works as a curse breaker for Gtingotts Wizarding Bank.'_

_The Weasley family will be spending a month in Egypt, returning for the start of the new school year at Hogwarts, which five of the Weasley children currently attend._

He stared transfixed on the moving photograph, all nine waving at the camera fanatically at him, standing in front of a large pyramid flashing huge grins. A plump little woman stood next to a tall, balding man with six sons and one daughter. Right in the middle of the picture the boy, tall and gangling with his pet rat on his shoulder and his arm around his little sister.

Searing heat burned his organs. So, Wormtail found himself a wizarding family to protect him – hiding all this time. Sirius gritted his teeth. Must've been fun, all that attention, better than he got at Hogwarts. He jabbed his finger at the missing front toe as if making his mark. Wormtail's end was finally here and the coward had better be ready for it.

.~oXo~.

_He's at Hogwarts…He's at Hogwarts…He's at Hogwarts._

The incessant chant kept him sane, keeping the cold at bay. Terrifying memories the Dementors brought alive just for his detriment, ineffectual, when weighed against his inflaming belief. Was it possible Sirius's answers to his questions lingered at Hogwarts? Gripping the gritty newspaper, his dirty nails digging against his dry skin, Sirius set his greedy eyes on the pathetic old rat.

Gazing at the black and white photo clipping, Sirius licked his chapped lips and for a moment, time stopped. For the first time in thirteen years, a frightening hope re-animated within his reach – the key to unravel the lies decaying everyone's mind. Sirius's heart leaped out of his chest. The search is finally over. His rightful place belonged at Hogwarts. In order for him to regain his innocence, he must avenge his friend's death. Getting rid of the filthy rat remained first on his list. Wormtail created the perfect story, the perfect diversion to evade arrest. Sirius needed to be careful how he set his cards; one slip is all it took for him to revert to his previous state.

His stomach knotted. A loving home is all Sirius ever wanted, with Remus, James, Lily and their son – Harry, the people from who he drew strength and comfort. Yet, through an unfortunate encounter with his ex-friend, Sirius's life ripped into shreds. The life he wished for, stolen. Sirius breathed heavily, Wormtail's presence is a danger to Harry. The treacherous leech ensured he lost the privilege of possessing a home.

It's time now he took revenge for the crime he was imprisoned for.

.~oXo~.

Sirius eyes flew open and he jerked awake. He drew in a deep breath as the air around him transitioned from a cooler atmosphere into a colder temperature. His whole body convulsed as the Dementors – evil and dark as their dead heart – inflicted their horror onto weak victims. When the door to the cell opened next to him, squealing as it clanged open; Sirius closed his eyes for what came next.

"Please! I didn't do anything! It wasn't me; you've got to believe me! No, no!" The man sobbed, his agony clearly shared by many others.

The dull clatter of the food tray scraping against the floor ringed loudly in his ears and made the choice for him. When it came to him Sirius transformed into his usual form as an enormous black dog. He rose to his haunches, tightly strung and crouched, awaiting his chance.

It's time he put Wormtail back in his place.


End file.
